


And I Pray

by FlickerInTheDark



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Death, Father-Son Relationship, Guilt, Mourning, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 14:56:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7688923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlickerInTheDark/pseuds/FlickerInTheDark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Hamilton family must confront the truth. Philip is gone and the funeral awaits. Some strong language. Multi-chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Another Hamilton fan fiction, this one as usual a bit sad. Note historical accuracy may not be on point, but I did work to try and keep the ages correct for the Hamilton kids. I plan on this being a three part series so look forward to that.

The moment Alexander opened his eyes he knew today would be awful. Looking at his phone he saw that it was 6:12 am and the eulogy. It was too early to get ready by too late to go back to sleep and pretend today was not happening. It was then he noticed his wife was not next to him.

He turned and saw two dark spots under the door. Eliza was already up and getting ready. It was just like her not to waste time. Alexander decided to get up then and join her in the bathroom. He knocked but to his surprise did not hear the sound of running water or anything.

"Eliza? Darling?" he called softly.

Nothing. So he decided to just go in, in case something was wrong or more likely because he needed his wife. He was so broken that he needed to see at least one member of the family to convince himself no one else was leaving.

"I apologize," he said in reference to his barging in, "Are you alright?"

Looking down he saw that she was not all right. She sat on the closed toilet seat sobbing. She had not changed or cleaned up but sat in her old Marvel pajama set he had given her their first Christmas.

Her eyes were red and her hair was a mess. When she was stressed or upset she would run her hands through her hair until small tufts would stand up. Her face was blotchy and she clutched a piece of toilet paper that she was using to wipe her eyes. Clearly, Charmin lied about its products strength.

"Eliza," he said kneeling before her.

"Alexander, there is no way I can go through with today!" she wailed now.

"Shh, shh," he cooed softly. He did it in part because he had no idea what to say and in part, he didn't want the children to hear who slept in the room across from them.

"I cannot bear to see our son," she sniffed.

"Oh Eliza, you know you will be upset if you don't go," Alexander said now taking Eliza into his arms, "We need to be there."

"Why did we think an open casket was a good idea?" she continued to cry into his shoulder.

Alexander did wonder why. But he figured when they made that decision their son had been dead for only two days. Eliza then had wanted to get the funeral over with and wanted to move past the sorrow. But now they both wished they had waited at least a week to make any decisions. Perhaps waiting a little longer they could comprehend and fully work through his afterlife plans.

"We can always have a closed casket if you really want to. If it would make you feel better, " he said. The nasty word of 'casket" sat on his tongue.

"No, it's fine."

"No really. I have no problem with it being closed. If you are satisfied, then I am," he said into her hair.

"It kills me to think our Philip is lying in a box at the funeral home," Eliza continued, "To think he is alone right now."

"No do not say that he is not alone. He is up in Heaven now watching us, or if I know him he is in this room right now making sure you are okay," Alexander soothed.

"I cannot let the children see me like this," she sighed getting up.

"Why not?"

"I am their mother. I am meant to be strong and comforting. I cannot be powerless this time," she said with more resolve. Eliza looked as though her previous crying was just spell, but Alexander could see she was fighting back tears at every turn.

"I will go wake the children. You should take a shower or a bath," Alexander said turning the shower on for her. She gave him a grateful half-smile as he left.

He left the bathroom and walked across the hall. He distantly heard scuffling and knocked.

"Come in," said a small voice.

"It's 6:30 am. I have never seen you sleepy heads up before noon of your own free will," he said trying to make a joke but too it was hopeless.

"Couldn't sleep," James responded looking at the floor.

He walked in and saw that all of his children were in Angie's room. Angie was now the eldest and she had taken in stride to comforting the small children.

"I don't want to go today," said William.

"Don't say that he's your brother," Angie snapped. Angie had been distraught during this whole process and was so saddened, anything said against her brother she would not stand for.

"No, it is fine Angie. William, why don't you want to go?" Alexander asked, sitting him on his knee. But honestly, he understood, today was too sunny. A day they would normally go to the park or go to Philip's University to visit him in the evening.

"He's dead. I'm scared," William responded in a whiny voice.

"Philip won't hurt you. Has he ever?" Alexander asked.

"I suppose not," William said, "But zombies?"

"No zombies. I promise! You will be just fine. Mommy and daddy are still here," Alexander reassured. At least that was one promise he could keep

"What time do we leave?" Alexander Jr. asked.

" The ceremony will be at 12. But we are leaving here at 11," Alexander responded sadly. The whole family tried not to use the word funeral. Because funeral would mean this was all real. Perhaps if they all pretended they were going to say the movies, maybe it would be so.

He left them, to go back and check on Eliza. She had decided to take a bath and was now just floating her hands above the water.

"I could drown myself," Eliza said despondently.

"What?" he said startled.

"I would deserve it," she said.

"No never!"

"Yes, Alexander I do! I didn't protect him and now look at where we are!" she said balling her fists up. Eliza had been tormented at the loss. She kept thinking what she could have or should have done. She had been thinking similar thoughts every day since that wretched day.

"Elizabeth, it is my fault. Please just let me take the blame," he begged her. Any thought of also losing his wife sent him over the edge.

"Alexander," she said looking him in the eye, "Promise you will not leave my side today?"

"Never," he said gripping her wet hand.

Everyone got dressed in various speeds ranging from slow to evolution slow. Alexander never wanting to waste time, dressed promptly in a fashionable suit he had bought with the help of his ever fashion conscious friend Lafayette. Lafayette and him had spent the day shopping, laughing and Alex thinking something looked good but Lafayette having him turn back around. He had not worn since his friend John Laurens died. He had hoped he would never have to wear this suit again. A few days ago he saw the suit and saw it needed cleaning. He had hoped maybe by happy accident the dry cleaners would mess it up or he would outgrow it. The suit remained. The suit was a lovely dark black with very faint pinstripes and was originally for a reception held in honor of George Washington. But John died first.

Eliza was the slowest. She wore a simple dress; she had bought a few days ago. Eliza detested wearing black because she loved wearing bright colors. But today she put the thing on. She then remembered a gift Philip had given her when he was five maybe six...  _God Philip is already slipping away._ She pulled out a brooch pin thing he had made from cardboard paper and glitter. Philip had cried saying some kid had knocked the brooch over and messing it up. But Eliza just knelt down and kissed his forehead, "No darling it is perfect. One of a kind, no one can ever duplicate this masterful work."

Then the doorbell rang. It would be Angelica. She stayed in near by hotel, despite the protests of Eliza. Angelica had said, "Eliza, you don't need another body in the house. Please, be with your children and husband, you don't need me right now."

Eliza decided she would welcome her sister in.

As soon as she opened the door Angelica hugged her sister.

"There, there," she said patting Eliza's back who was crying again.

The plan was to go to the ceremony and then each would pay their respects with Alexander and Eliza staying behind for a little longer. Angelica would take the children home.

It was now time to leave. After a short period when Angelica spent a little bit of time with the kids it was decided it was time. All of the children were silent and Eliza had managed to erase any redness from her eyes. She was still determined to not let her children see her cry. In the past days she had been trying to convince them and herself Philip wasn't gone but in a better place. The younger children believed her but the eldest believed so their mother could hold onto something. It seemed impossible to believe anything good could come from this. Everyone tried to put a brave face on, to believe what the counselors said about grief, but the pain cut deep.

Alexander sat in his office.  _How could I let this happen?_ He asked himself for the millionth time. Philip his first pride and joy. He loved all of his children but Philip was the most like him. His son always scored top marks and was well liked by his peers. He was always his classmates' first choice for class president or Prom royalty.

"Son? Philip? If you can hear me please remember I love you and would do anything to bring you back to your mother and me," he said to the ceiling.

He noticed he had been holding the eulogy. Rereading it, he found how fake it sounded. Sounded like some business contract he would write for Washington. He ripped the blasted thing and pulled out a piece of notebook paper. No time to type and print something. He was scribbling down the final words when Alexander Jr. knocked.

"Yes?" he called behind his back.

"Pops, ma says it's time to go."

He hadn't heard being called  _pops_ since Philip died.  _God, it always comeback to Philip being gone. Why can I not live life without remembering Philip's lasts?_ He had similar thought at dinner last night. They had picked up Burger King for dinner last night since Eliza had not been cooking for a couple of weeks. Everyone barely ate but no matter. Eliza had always been against fast food for her kids, but the last time she went through the drive through she was asking Philip and the other kids if they wanted crowns. Philip had scoffed he was far too old at the ripe old age of 7. But he happily wore it for the weekend.

"Okay, son. Let's go," he said rising.

Alexander Jr. was about to walk out of the room, when Alexander said, "Son could you come here for a minute?"

Obediently he came over and Alexander just engulfed his son in a hug. A hug he had not given his kids in so long.

"Pops? You gonna be alright?"

"Yes. Yes son," he said restraining his tears.

"It's okay pops!"

"I know. I know, I'm being foolish aren't I son?"

"Na, I feel the same way," Alexander Jr. said. Pulling away from his son he noticed his son had obviously been crying earlier.

_What have I caused?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No copyright infringement intended. If you do not like sad works I direct you to my other works that are happier. Enjoy.

They piled into a limo. Originally Alexander had intended for them to just drive, but his friends Hercules and Lafayette had insisted he and his family were in no state to drive. They had split the bill insisting he take a limo. Alexander was secretly grateful, he would be a wreck navigating traffic.

The short 30-minute drive was agony. Alexander and Eliza had decided on a small private cemetery as opposed to the big one next to the highway. They had picked cemeteries like they picked colleges with Philip. They had decided a plot by a massive maple. They figured Philip could climb the tree and see New York. The tree also shaded the plot from snow and blaring sun; they wanted Philip to be comfortable. They wanted Philip to be left in peace and not have paparazzi swarming the grave. Alexander had been quite renowned in D.C when he was working with Washington. But with his earlier fame and the scandal, rumors and news reports flew. Everyone knew and the family was determined to keep this as private as possible.

They were at the gated cemetery and sure enough, people were swarming the car. They heard yelling and people banged on the car windows.

The younger children seemed scared by all of this commotion and scooted closer to Eliza where she covered their eyes and flipped the bird to the onlookers. She knew it was wrong and there would be pictures of it but she didn't care. Eliza was angry now.  _How dare they do this? This is my son!_ She looked towards Alexander who also looked infuriated, clenching his hands even tighter. If it had not been today he might have rolled down a window and yelled for them to clear out. But today was too filled with Alexander's brash mistakes. It would seem almost ironic to do anything but sit here quiet.

Finally, the guarded gates opened to allow the limo in.

Finally, the family stood in the small nondenominational chapel.

Finally, the ceremony started.

The funeral had very few guest. It was Alexander, Eliza, their six children, Alexander's two living friends Lafayette and Hercules and Angelica. Eliza's family could not attend on the account of either being dead or too old to move down for the ceremony.

Eliza and Alexander would sit in the first pew, Angelica and the children in the one behind and Alexander's friends who sat in the 3rd.

An organ began to play and Alexander knew this was the moment when this was all real. He picked up the white pine coffin with the help of Lafayette and Hercules. A small choir began to sing as they began to lift and take Philip's coffin to the table by where the Priest stood.

_There is a fountain filled with blood_

_Drawn from Emmanuel's veins;_

_And sinners plunged beneath that flood_

_Lose all their guilty stains._

_Lose all their guilty stains,_

_Lose all their guilty stains;_

Alexander was so happy his friends were here. Not just because the coffin weighed more than expected from both weight and knowledge of who was inside. His friends were not just friends but family. The Philip had been particularly close to them, even calling them Uncle Laff and Uncle Herc. Alexander remembered many a 4th of July family barbecue when Lafayette would teach him to curse in French and Hercules teaching him how to throw his voice and change accents.

"Alex," a whisper came.

"Huh?"

"Alex, you need to step up, we're at the steps to the stage," Hercules whispered.

Alexander had been so out of it; he had not noticed his shins were up against the small step.

They maneuvered; the coffin onto the table and Alexander opened the head of the coffin. He did not look in. Not now.

They all returned to their seats and the funeral began. No point calling it a ceremony anymore, it was now a funeral.

Alexander saw when he sat down the floral arrangements and Philip's College photo from when he had been honored as an accelerative student and on the way to being valedictorian. The photo had King's College in the background and Philip leading on a light post looking radiant. He had decided to wear just a t-shirt and jeans, which Eliza objected to but didn't fight.

Now his son was sitting in the white coffin in a white suit.  _God who's idea was this?_ _This is a funeral he should be wearing back and this coffin should be black._ But they had decided white because they remembered Philip like his mother detested black. He had jokingly said, "Don't put me in a black standard coffin." Eliza had told him not to say such things and Alexander had asked out of curiosity, "What color then? Brown?" Philip in dead seriousness said, "White. Put me in a white coffin, that way when the sun shines through the stained glass, my coffin will light up with color."

Philip was eerily right. The sun shown through the generic stained glass and Philip's coffin was covered in brilliant color much like the paintings they still kept that he had done in his free time. Alexander knew Philip had always wanted to attend art school but had been urged to go to law school instead.

_Maybe if he had gone to art school he wouldn't be dead._

The sermon was given and Alexander was not listening. These words meant little, they were generic. "He has joined the Lord" and the phrase "he was a noble kid, taken too early" was tossed around. Alexander hated this priest every passing second.

_Damn it! Why did I have to be impulsive again? We could have waited but instead, we rushed. This is not what Philip deserves!_

Soon it came time for eulogies. Hercules and Lafayette both stood up and gave theirs. It was light-hearted and even elicited a few laughs.

"I remember when he was just this tall," Lafayette gestured to his knee, "he asked me "Uncle Laff why is your voice weird it doesn't sound like mommy or daddy's voice". I told him I was from the land of bread. I mean I was not lying. Baguettes, croissants and such. I remember Philip's awe. Philip was always so trusting. But when I had to tell him I was kidding, he didn't seem angry or like a 5-year-old would act. He just smiled and forgave me."

"The boy is just like his father! The first time I met Philip, I knew there was no mistake as to whom the father was. I remember when I had a small dispute with Lafayette here, and Philip came over and listed every reason I was wrong. That boy had a keen sense of justice and had a born gift to debate," Hercules said.

Angelica gave her eulogy, which sounded more like poetry than a eulogy.

"There are moments where the words don't reach. There's a suffering too terrible to name. You hold your child as tight as you can and push away the unimaginable. The moments when you're in so deep, it feels easier to just swim down. There is a grace too powerful to name, we push away what we can never understand, we push away the unimaginable..." everyone was in tears by the power at which Angelica spoke. She never hesitated and spoke with conviction.

To no one's surprise, Angie's eulogy was just like her Aunt's. Full of passion and emotion.

"Philip was the best brother I could wish for. To say he was taken too soon is an understatement! 78 is the average age of death for a man in the United States. That is 59 years too soon! The only that lifts me is Philip did not have time to live life with regrets, did not have enough time to see friends and family die. He did not need to suffer as we do, for years. He lived his life, to its potential. He told me every day was a day to do something because tomorrow is not promised…" her words faded.

_God, how did my children grow up so fast? She is so much like Philip in her words, it's like he is speaking._

"And now we will hear a few words for his father. Mr. Hamilton would you like to come up now," the priest said slurring, as though he was drunk. Perhaps he did drink, the only way to numb the pain of death.  _Anything right now to take the pain._

As Alexander walked to the podium he flashed back to that day.

_The phone had rung and he was about to dismiss the call when he saw the ID. Ramos Teaching Hospital. He picked it up and the news came. His son was in the ICU and he needed to go down there to confirm the body. He remembered he had to get there soon because this person they said was his son was dying and he might not have that long._

" _Elizabeth!" he called from his office. Eliza had come in startled._

" _What.." before being cut off._

" _Philip, he-he is hurt. He's in the hospital, they saw we need to get there fast," he said falling over his words._

Alexander had his appear with his eulogy and began to read.

"Philip Hamilton. My son. I shall not ramble on as I am often known to do because the words that need to be meaningful and of quality, not quantity. I want to recite something. Something my son once said."

Clearing his throat he recited the poem Philip once wrote. At the time he had been too busy to relish the moment.

"My name is Philip. I am a poet. I wrote these words just to show it. And I just turned nine, you can write rhymes but you can't write mine!" Alexander began. He felt his throat close up, "I practice French and play piano with my mother, I have a little sister but I want a little brother." He then looked up at Angie and Alexander Jr.

"My-my daddy's trying to start America's bank. Un Deux Trois Quatre cinq!"

"My son wrote this and I now look back and realize, I was not there enough. Sure I always ate dinner with him and the family and I did help him, but I was not there from him emotionally. He is my son and I truly, truly regret not asking him what he liked. I worked so hard to mold him to be like myself, I foolishly thought that was the only way to make it in this twisted world."

Alexander had more but he simply broke down. Now was when all of the floodgates opened. He just stood there frozen with tears streaming down his face. He felt someone come up next to him and he knew it was Eliza.

"Eliza," he whispered, "I am so sorry. I am so so sorry for not giving the eulogy right."

"Shh, shh," she coaxed as she led them back to her seat.

Then came the conclusion. Just simple remarks about how again this was such a tragedy and the funeral were over. Eliza had chosen not to speak on account that she had private words for Philip she didn't want the whole world to hear.

Now was the time for Philip to be 'Viewed', which sounded horrible. But they had agreed it was right, so people could say their last good-byes.

The first one's to enter was Eliza and Alexander. They had decided to not have their children join them. The children were all so distraught and it would be cruel to put them through more heartache. So Angelica accompanied the children back to the Hamilton's house and agreed to look after them.

Eliza and Alexander held hands as they reentered the chapel. Philip's coffin still sat there on the table.

" _Mr. Hamilton sir, the bullet entered just above the hip and lodged in his right arm," the doctor had said._

Now for the first time after the accident they saw their son. The freckles. The curly hair. The slight smile remained.

"Philip," Eliza said.

Without realizing it she began to brush his curls out of his face. Alexander stood on the other side rubbing his hand on Philip's shoulder.

"My son. You know we named you after my father because he had taught me so much and I wanted to pass down those teachings to you. But besides that love, you were so special. You were your own person and that is something I always wish I could have done. You taught me more then I think I taught you."

Eliza, unlike Alexander, let out ugly sounds and her tears did not come down slowly but in streams.

"I wish I could have protected you better. And look you are seeing me crying. No child should see their mother cry like this," she sobbed.

They were in there then in silence, each giving their silent prayers.

"I hope you are not alone," Alexander said so quietly Eliza barely heard, "I hope where ever you are someone is with you. And I will be there just as soon as I can, to properly apologize. I hope you aren't scared."

"It was my inaction, my reckless behavior that made you do this," Alexander continued.

"Not your fault," Eliza reassured Alexander.

They then had to leave. Others had to say good-bye.

The two just stood silently eating the bland refreshments.

Soon came the horrible time where Philip had to be lowered into the cold, lonely ground. They all walked to the spot where Philip was to be laid to rest. As they walked the Hearse led the way. The June sun seemed to warm for such an event.

They all reached the plot. The priest continued to mumble clichés and nonsense before closing his Bible and stepping aside.

Alexander saw the man take out a hip flask and take a drink. Alexander knew this was wrong but he couldn't stop himself. He stomped over to the man and punched him. Everyone gasped.

"My son is dead! The most you can do is drink? Fuck I could be drinking right now to dull the pain but you know what? I deal with it! I deal with the harshness life hands us and here you are drinking! You could at; least try and be sincere you..." Hercules pulled Alexander off of the man and Alexander caught his wife's eye.

"I am so sorry!" he said urgently, "I know you don't like to see violence and I promised no not be brash anymore. Please, I am so sorry Eliza. Don't be angry with me again."

"It's alright. I've been thinking the same all day."

With that piece of business out of the way, everyone through a handful of dirt into the hole, where Philip's coffin now sat.

THREE WEEKS LATER

It was the 36th time Alexander was at Philip's grave. Alexander visited every afternoon before coming home and sometimes during his lunch break if he had time. He placed his hand on the same spot of the angel's head that adorned the stone.

Philip Hamilton

1997-2016

You made us so proud

The grave was still adorned with the dried up remains of flowers from the funeral. Alexander, as he did every day, brought one branch with asphodel flowers. Asphodel signified regret that would follow to the grave. Alexander went through a lot of trouble to be able to give one a day to his son. He wanted Philip to know his regret and eternal love. He didn't want Philip to doubt even for a second if he was loved.

Eliza didn't visit often. The sorrow overcame her and she would be inconsolable for days. So she contented herself to thinking of him every day and praying to him at night.

The children all went to grief counseling and slowing began to move on.

But Alexander knew he had to see his son. He knew it was hard but he needed to be there. It was the only way he could ever so slowly forgive himself.

"Hey, Philip buddy. What's new?" Alexander said starting up a conversation. The first couple of times he would whisper or just cry.

"Guess what I learned today? I guess you had a girlfriend Theodosia. When were you going to tell your old man eh?"

"She seems really nice and is going to visit you sometime tomorrow. She told me she was working at some camp this past month and she didn't know. But I will let her tell you about it when she gets here. Tomorrow is a Saturday, remember when we would go to the zoo on Saturdays?"

He continued on with the current news. He knew his son like him would go batty if no one told him of the news. Besides Alexander didn't know if Philip was alone if Philip was Alexander wanted to be sure someone would check in. He had prayed that his mother or maybe even John Lauren's would keep an eye on his son.

"Listen, son, it's that time again. Don't worry son I will see you tomorrow. Same time and place."

He then knelt down and kissed his middle and index finger and pressed it against the stone.

"My baby boy. Pride is not the word I'm looking for. How did I get such a perfect son? I love you so much."


End file.
